


Chance Encounters

by em_gray



Series: AU fic challenge [1]
Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, How Do I Tag, I guess? it's mild though, Injury, M/M, Mugging, Pre-Relationship, Vigilante AU, gun - Freeform, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22820248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/em_gray/pseuds/em_gray
Summary: Monty is saved from a mugger by a mysterious vigilante. The two end up getting along pretty well.
Relationships: Henry "Monty" Montague/Percy Newton
Series: AU fic challenge [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640491
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	Chance Encounters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pinstripedJackalope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinstripedJackalope/gifts).



> So me and my friend are doing an au challenge, where we both start off by writing a tggtvav au oneshot, then I write an au of their au and they write an au of my au, and we keep switching back and forth. Here's my first AU for the challenge! Definitely read theirs, [Radio Ship](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22796626) .  
> Anyway! One fic into the challenge and I already went over the word count limit but very well. Enjoy!

The first time I meet him, I’m in the middle of being mugged.

I can’t tell you what time it is any more specifically than  _ late _ , and I am definitely drunk, but I think that hardly warrants being shoved into a wall and having a gun placed to the back of my skull.

“Your wallet,” a voice spats at me. “ _ Now _ !”

I’m really out of it tonight, because it actually takes me a solid three seconds to figure out what’s going on, and another two before I realize that I should be terrified. I let out a noise as the guy grabs me by the shoulder and violently throws me against the wall again.

“You’re not gonna want me to ask again,” he hisses.

I start fumbling in my pockets, my hands so shaky that it takes me several tries to get a hold of my wallet. I feel the barrel being pushed against the back of my head more forcefully and I flinch. “Please,” escapes me. I don’t care about any money I’m losing tonight, I’m just convinced that in my panic I’m not going to be able to hand it over and the thug is going to lose his patience. I finally manage to take out the object, only to drop it right away.

“Oh, you think you’re being funny, huh?” the thief snarls.

“I’m not,” I cry. “Please, I-” And in an attempt to pick the wallet up, I turn away from the wall and accidentally end up facing my attacker. He’s covered in dark clothes and I can only see his eyes, but that already seems to be too much, for he points the gun at my forehead and says: “That’s it.”

“No - please, don’t - I -”

I throw up my arms, trying to protect my head. I’m fully aware that it’s pretty useless against a bullet, but I’m desperate and scrambly and all I’m thinking is  _ oh god, I’m gonna die here tonight, in a stupid alleyway and at the hands of some stupid mugger and I’m never gonna see Percy again- _

I originally don’t even hear the music over my own whimpering. I’ve been incoherently begging for my life for a full minute when I realize the thief hasn’t made a move since I started. I risk looking up. The guy has lowered his weapon and is now staring ahead with glazed eyes. I look behind me to see what’s caught his attention, but the only thing there is a plain wall. Then I realize somebody started playing a fiddle.

I slowly lower my arms and look around for the origin of the sound. Suddenly, the mugger makes another move, and I start so badly I shrink back against the wall. But he’s not threatening me again - he just turns and starts walking away, his motions unsettingly calm. I stare after him for a while, trying to comprehend what just happened.

The melody gets louder, and then I see him: a dark figure approaching from the shadows, his bow and fiddle in hand. My first instinct is to be scared - I just almost got mugged, and now a shady stranger is walking up to me. But there’s something about it all - maybe about the music, maybe about him - that calms me down.

He stops three feet away from me, plays a final note, and lowers the instrument. For a moment we do nothing but stare at each other. Then he puts the fiddle and bow behind his back, into what seems to be some sort of case for it, and carefully shows his hands.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

His voice is deep and familiar in a way that I might be able to name if I wasn’t still terrified and confused as hell. I can’t see his face - he’s got it almost entirely covered by a large hood and a scarf, all dark like the rest of his clothes - but his hands tremble as if he’s unsure if he can reach out or not.

“I’m fine,” I manage to get out. “Wh-what was that?”

He crosses his arms. “You got mugged, that’s what that was.” There’s amusement in his voice that instantly puts me at ease and makes me feel like I should have some sort of witty retort.

“Very funny,” I say. “But you know what I m- Oh! I know you!”

Maybe I imagined it, but I could swear there’s a hint of hesitation in his voice. “Y-you do?”

“Yeah! You’re the guy that everyone’s talking about! The vigilante, right?”

“Oh,” he says. “Yeah, I guess that must be me.”

“Funny,” My heartbeat’s back to normal, and so is my confidence. “I really didn’t believe that stuff they used to say.”

“What do they say?”

“That you can, you know, hypnotize people by playing on that fiddle.”

He chuckles, a pleasant sound muffled by fabric. “Can I now?”

“Sounds a bit far-fetched, doesn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

A silence falls, though not an uncomfortable one. I look into the direction the mugger vanished. “Where’d you send him, anyway?”

“To hand himself in at the nearest police station.”

I burst out laughing. “Really? That’s amazing.”

He hums. “Would you like me to walk you home? In case someone tries to mug you again.”

“Aw, how considerate. You’re my hero.”

He laughs again, and I realize I’m becoming very fond of the sound.

The second time I see him, we’re sitting on a rooftop together, watching the night life below. I spotted him from my balcony and found my way to him by means of a fire escape.

He’s quiet as I sit down next to him. “How’d you find me?” he asks eventually.

I point ahead. “I live there,” I say. “And you’re in full view from my bedroom window.” I take a chance, and prod him in the side with my elbow. “Careful how you pick your lookout spots. I might start to believe you’re trying to catch my attention. Or just spying on me.”

He makes an indignant noise. “I would never.”

“Sure.”

“I’m the good guy, you know.”

“Hmm.”

We’re silent again for a while, watching cars and people pass by under us. I’m chewing on my lip, trying to decide on the best way to keep this conversation going.

“So how does it work?”

“Hm?”

“The hypnotizing-by-music thing.”

He laughs. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.”

He shrugs. “Not precisely. I don’t even know if it’s the fiddle or it’s me. But one day I just… could.”

“And deciding to become a superhero was the logical next step?”

“I’m not a superhero,” he says.

“Vigilante?”

“That’s probably closer.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Aw, come on. I’m great company, and you want to make sure I stick around. So on with it.”

He swallows. “...Honestly?” A sigh. “I don’t know. It all happened… mostly by accident. I just realized… there’s a lot of bad things happening in the world. And if I could prevent some of those, even just a handful, then why shouldn’t I?”

The sky is a painting of stars playing hide and seek behind lazy clouds. The sounds of the city are muffled by their distance, and in this spot I feel wonderfully invisible, invisible together with this boy that I’m trying to make sense of.

“That’s… noble,” I say eventually.

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“Bit generic, isn’t it?”

He laughs. “I’m sorry my origin story isn’t that impressive.”

“But for real? Is that the only reason? Nothing personal? No late relative whose last words inspired you?”

A hum. “If you must know, I have… this friend. And I care about him a lot, but he’s in a… not so great situation. And I’ve always wanted to help him, but I never could. Even now, I still feel like I can’t. So I guess I’m just trying to make up for that.”

“By helping others.”

“I suppose.”

I think it over. “What sort of problems can’t be fixed by superpowers?”

He chuckles. “I could name a few.”

I rock back and forth lightly, absent-mindedly following a man walking his dog with my eyes. “Your friend is lucky to have you.”

“What?”

“He’s lucky to have you. Your friend.”

“Even though I can’t help him?” he asks incredulously.

“Yeah,” I say.

This is followed by a number of chance encounters, or ‘chance’ encounters, as I like to call them.

“Admit it,” I say one day. “You just want to see me.”

“Keep on dreaming,” he replies.

“You could just give me your phone number. It would make this all so much easier.”

But he laughs it off.

Even though I start to expect and hopefully anticipate our little meetings, our eleventh catches me off guard. Especially because it takes place at my home, where we’ve never met up before.

I’ve just arrived home from a classmate’s party and am planning to hit the hay, when I see something that’s not supposed to be there on my balcony. A dark shape, balled up on the ground, and when it moves, I almost literally jump. I grab the nearest object that I think would make a good weapon - an umbrella - and carefully unlock the door. The stones are cold beneath my bare feet. When he hears me, he looks up, and I realize who it is.

“Hey,” I say, immediately throwing the umbrella aside. “What are you doing here?”

“‘m sorry,” he mumbles. “I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

“What are you talking about?” I kneel down next to him. “Is something wrong?”

He sniffs and rubs his nose. “Maybe.” He tries to make it sound light.

I refuse to budge. “What happened?”

“I just didn’t hear him coming.” He sniffs again. “It’s all kind of stupid, really. I should’ve expected someone would try to get back at me eventually. And I’m not much use if I can’t play my fiddle.”

It dawns on me. “Someone attacked you?”

“Like I said, it was a matter of time.”

“Are you hurt?”

He takes a ragged breath, then nods a few times. “Well. I think I’m gonna be fine. I’m just… sore all over.” He laughs, then winces. “I managed to get this thing-” he pats the fiddle on his lap, “-back before they could do any real damage. I’m just… a little spooked, I suppose.”

It takes me five minutes to help him get inside. I’m shivering, so I can’t imagine the state he must be in. I guide him toward the couch and let him sit down, then fetch a few blankets to put over him. He’s still clutching the fiddle case tightly. I briefly leave my room to ask a servant to go make a cup of tea, or cocoa, or soup, or anything warm, and fetch some ice.

“Do you need anything else?” I ask him when I return.

He sniffs. “Um, do you have any tissues? My nose is bleeding-”

“Oh! Of course!”

Ten minutes later he’s managed to stop the bleeding and has briefly put aside the fiddle to drink the hot cocoa I’ve brought him. I tentatively sit down next to him. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else? Or… need to go to a hospital or anything?”

“And explain how this happened to me?”

“I could call in a private doctor. No questions asked.”

“Thanks, but… I’m fine. Really.”

I want to push but I’m not sure how. Instead I ask: “So are you gonna stop now?”

“Stop?”

“The whole vigilante thing.”

“Why? ‘Cause I got beat up once?”

“Well, yeah!”

He shrugs. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Why would I?”

“Because it’s dangerous! You can get hurt again, and  _ worse _ .”

“Occupational hazard, I suppose.”

“But why? No one is making you do this.”

“That’s right.”

“And…” I bite my lip. “I think your friend would prefer you to be safe.”

He turns to me. “Oh, that’s low.”

“What of it?”

He says nothing, just lifts the cup to his face. There, he hesitates. “Um, would you mind… looking away? I can’t drink this and hide my face at the same time.”

“You’re just trying to change the subject.”

“Am not.”

“Fine.” I turn, then hesitate. A risk. Without looking, I carefully move closer, until I’m leaning against his side, facing ninety degrees away from him.

There’s a pause, then I hear him drinking. “...Thank you, by the way,” he says after a while. “I didn’t want to go home like this. My - The people I live with would ask questions.”

“And they’re not gonna, as soon as they see you covered in bruises?”

I feel him shrug against my back. “Now I’ve got a little more time to think it over.”

“Do you want to stay over?”

Like many things I say, it’s left me before I think it through. I don’t take it back, though. I feel him tense up, and there’s a long pause.

“...You’ve got the space for it, that’s for sure,” he eventually settles on.

I grin. “Is that a yes?”

He huffs. “Sure.”

“Excellent.” I almost turn to face him, but stop myself in time. “I’ve got some pajamas you can borrow.”

“Ha. Nice try.”

“Try to what?”

“Come on.”

“All I’m saying is that I’m ninety-nine percent sure you look extremely handsome behind that scarf and hood.”

“Only ninety-nine percent?”

“Take away my doubts, then.”

I was hoping for a witty reply, something to prove I haven’t crossed a line, but he goes quiet. “Why’d you want to see my face?” he eventually says.

I shrug. “Who knows? Maybe I just want to see what you look like. Maybe I want to blackmail you. Maybe I want to kiss you.” My cheeks flare up. “The possibilities are endless.”

Behind me, he shifts, turning toward me. Temptation is a living thing.

“You want to kiss me?” he asks.

I fake nonchalance. “You  _ are _ a superhero. That’s pretty attractive.”

He doesn’t laugh. “Not a superhero,” he just says.

“Vigilante, whatever. Honestly, I wouldn’t even have to see you if I wanted to kiss you. I could just…” I take a deep breath, shut my eyes, and turn slowly, ‘...keep my eyes closed.”

I can hear his breath catch.

“Or you could just call it off right now.” I try, in case I’ve really misread the signals here. “I turn back around, and we never speak of it again.”

“No, it’s just…” I hear him swallow. “I… I don’t want to do this without you knowing who I am.”

My heart is racing almost as badly as when I got mugged, the day I met him. My mouth runs dry. “You want to do this?” I almost open my eyes. “I mean, you want me to know-”

“I think so.”

“That’s not very convincing.”

“Just…” He sighs. “Just… open your eyes, and if you still want to kiss me then, you can go ahead, all right?”

I nod. Heat’s risen to my cheeks and I’m shaking a little. Suddenly, I’m not so sure if I want to do this anymore.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. You want to find out?”

I swallow. “All right. Here goes.”

I take a deep breath, and open my eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for more fics in this series!
> 
> EDIT: here's the au that's based off this one: [Soul Song](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22840951) by [pinstripedJackalope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinstripedJackalope/pseuds/pinstripedJackalope)


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